


You Are Enough

by serendipityeuphoria



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive May Parker (Spider-Man), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Peter Parker Has Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityeuphoria/pseuds/serendipityeuphoria
Summary: “Uh, guys, could you please, maybe, help-” Peter cut in.“Peter, please,” Cap cut in. Peter fell silent.Gulping down a hard lump in his throat, Peter stayed silent, listening to the sounds of rubble shifting and shouting through his earpiece. Aunt May had been right before, and was still right now. He didn’t deserve rescue.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 548





	You Are Enough

It seemed that buildings really, really hated Peter Parker.

Letting a slew of curse words escape his mouth, Peter thrust his wrists forward, attaching his web to a pillar on the edge of the collapsing parking lot and quickly swinging down to ground level, swinging a good twenty feet away before carefully placing the four people he had rescued onto the ground.

“Guys, don’t go back! It’s about to collapse!” Tony’s voice said through the intercom.

“There’s still people in there, Mr. Stark,” Peter protested - he wasn’t the only one who protested, either. “Karen, mute the intercom.” 

“Peter, are you sure that’s a good-”

“Mute the intercom, just for twenty seconds. I have to focus,” Peter shouted. He swung back into the ground level of the parking garage, following the sound of a child crying that he could barely hear even with his enhanced senses. The first few boulders were starting to fall, and Peter barely avoided one of them as he swung across the cracking ceiling, scooping up the child just as a boulder collapsed onto where she had been standing. The collapsing parking garage was _enormous,_ five stories high, next to a huge shopping mall and three prominent restaurants. Some asshole had bombed it so perfectly, destroyed it’s supports so thoroughly that it was currently collapsing. Beelining for the nearest open exit, Peter felt the building above him give a horrible _crack_ as he flew toward the entrance. Sixty, fifty, forty feet - an entire section behind him collapsed and Peter shielded the girl with his body, biting back a cry of pain at the piece of shrapnel that embedded itself into his shoulder. Thirty feet away.

“Karen, h-”

“You have three seconds before the building collapses.”

“Hey!” Peter screamed. “Grab the girl!” One of the onlookers from outside heard, staring at Spider-man and the girl in his arms in incredulity, and Peter took the last second he had to web up the child and make sure she was safe before throwing her toward the man outside. She screamed, there was a horrible splintering crack from above, and Peter cried out as something struck him and everything went back.

~ ~ ~

“Kid. _Kid._ Are you okay?” Tony sounded panicked.

“Peter, please wake up,” Karen supplied helpfully. Blinking the dust out of his eyes, Peter attempted to move his arm only to find that -

_I’m trapped._

“Are you guys okay?” Cap asked through the speaker. “I got out in time, but I know some of you were-”

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Peter said, willing his voice not to show the pain he felt. "But, uh-" 

“ _Agh_!” He was cut off by a cry of pain. That was Clint. Peter flinched at the cry of pain, something must’ve really hurt him. 

“Clint!” Tony shouted. “Wait a second, Peter, we’ll find you later. Clint, where are you?”

“Karen, could you mute them until they say my name?” Peter said tiredly. The pressure against his ribs and chest was only increasing, making it increasingly difficult to breath, and warm blood was collecting under his stomach and shoulder. He wasn’t vomiting blood, though, and his breathing was only obstructed by the rubble piled around him. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, to get yourself trapped._ Shaking aside his thoughts, Peter took as deep of a breath as he could. This was nothing. He was an Avenger, he could handle it. 

“Peter, I recommend you get help immediately. Would you like me to notify Mr. Stark-”

“No.”

“Peter, you are losing blood at an alarming rate-”

“ _No, Karen_!” Peter shouted. It hurt, bad, and his breathing began to pick up as his head spun. “I’m sorry, Karen. Unmute the channel, please.”

“Clint! Clint, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m near the exit on the east side. I was almost out, something hit my leg. I can’t walk. It’s okay, though.” Even so, Clint’s voice was strained with pain. “Close to the edge, I was almost out when I escaped.”

“We see where you are, we’re coming,” Cap said. 

“Uh, guys, could you please, maybe, help-” Peter cut in.

“Peter, _please_ ,” Cap cut in. Peter fell silent. 

_“Peter, please, could you just stop being selfish? I’m working so hard, what makes you think you deserve breakfast?” Aunt May screamed._

Gulping down a hard lump in his throat, Peter stayed silent, listening to the sounds of rubble shifting and shouting through his earpiece. Aunt May had been right before, and was still right now. He didn’t deserve rescue. It was getting increasingly hard to breath, he felt like he was suffocating, but Peter forced himself to calm down. 

“Guys, please, it-”

“Hold your horses, spiderling. We’ll get Clint out, okay? What, do you-” Tony was broken off by someone else shouting, and Peter had to mute his microphone to choke back a sob. 

_“Aunt May, please, it hurts so bad, please-”_

_“We’ll go get your Uncle his dinner, okay?”_

_“Aunt May-”_

_“Shut up! What, do you think you deserve food? You’re just a selfish brat intruding in our home. Shut up!”_

“Okay, kid, we got Clint out. Where are you?” Tony asked. “Oh shit, wait, there’s another guy here. Guys, do you see Peter?” There was the sound of a man sobbing and it only elevated Peter’s anxiety. The blood had soaked to the top of his hips now, wet and sticky against Peter’s skin, and he bit back his urge to beg for help. He didn’t deserve it. 

“Where _are_ you, Peter?” Steve asked. “I haven’t seen you at all.” Clearing his throat and trying to bite back his panic, Peter had to wait a second before he answered.

“Uh, I was, kind of, _in_ the building before it collapsed? Uh, I was, uh, on the ground floor. West side.”

Dead silence.

“Please tell me the kid is joking,” Tony said, and his voice was wrought with a strange emotion Peter couldn’t discern. _Oh god, he’s mad,_ Peter thought, gnawing on his lip. _Of course he would be, you stupid dumbass. You couldn’t even do your job right, you had to get trapped under this rubble like an idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Uh, Mr. Stark, it’s okay,” Peter stuttered. “I could-”

“Just shut up, Peter,” Tony said. Peter’s chest constricted, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t _breath. Mr. Stark’s gonna take away the suit again, I’ve disappointed him, he’s mad, he’s mad, he’s mad._ After ten minutes, people began to lift the debris off him. _Light. Space._ Even as his chest constricted as he saw Iron Man’s mask, Peter felt a sense of relief. He was free.

“Kid,” Tony Stark said, his mask folding in on itself to reveal a strangely emotional face. “Why didn’t… why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Ahh…” Peter breathed in fresh air, the motion stopped by a stabbing pain in his ribs. “Ow.”

“Why?"

“You guys… were busy…”

“You were _trapped_ under a _five story building_!” Tony shouted. Peter flinched back, his eyes welling up with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Do better-” Tony stopped, threw his hands up, and sighed. “Kid, I-”

Tony must be really, really mad.

Letting out a small exhale, Peter passed out.

~ ~ ~

“Peter?”

“Ehughh,” Peter groaned, opening his eyes. “Where… where am I?” 

“Stark Industries.”

“Oh, thank god. Mr. Banner? That you?”

“Yeah, kid. Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, y’know, after that building,” Peter murmured. His enhanced healing did wonders - although, of course, whatever had gone through him was obviously not healed, it had lessened most of the bruising across his body. His ribs ached, likely bruised, but he could sit up without that much pain. 

“Where’s Mr. Stark? Is he okay? Is Clint okay? Was anyone else injured?” Peter asked. Bruce Banner stared incredulously at Peter, muttering something about Cap before sighing.

“Yes, Mr. Stark is okay. Clint’s injury was just a fracture, nothing compared to yours.”

“Wait, no, I’m fine,” Peter insisted.

“Peter, you have three broken ribs, a puncture through your shoulder and stomach that barely missed your internal organs, and a tiny break on your left arm. Are you really gonna say-”

“Where’s Mr. Stark?” Peter asked again. “Is he… is he mad?” Bruce sighed.

“Why don’t you figure that out yourself?”

 _Oh, shit. He’s definitely mad._ Picking himself up carefully and nearly collapsing from the pain, Peter hobbled toward the elevator.

“FRIDAY, where’s Tony?”

“Tony is currently in the workshop. I detect slight levels of agitation.” Ignoring the dread and panic pooling in his chest, Peter hit the button on the elevator and walked toward the lab. It reminded him slightly of the time he had asked for food at the supermarket, violating one of the most core rules Aunt May had told him when he first moved in. When they reached the apartment, they had slowly ascended to their floor in the clunky elevator in complete, utter silence. Aunt May had opened the door and stepped inside, Peter following behind her, and when he turned back toward Aunt May after slowly closing the door, she had already slammed down her phone and raised her fist. Peter hadn’t been able to go to school for five days after that. _Tony wouldn’t do that_ , he reasoned with himself, trying to calm down. 

Slowly, Peter opened the door to the lab. He closed the door slowly before turning back toward Tony, who was immersed in his work, holding a tiny metal bracelet within his slightly shaking hands.

_Aunt May’s hands had been shaking the entire way up the elevator ride._

The panic was now as bad as it had been under the building, building up in his throat, slowly choking the very breath out of his lungs. 

“Tony…?” Peter asked, his voice a tiny squeak. Something in Tony broke when he heard the boy’s voice: he sounded so scared, so alone, and he slammed the bracelet down on the table and reached toward him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I’m sorry-” it took Tony a second to realize what exactly Peter was apologizing for. 

“Peter. _Peter._ Hey, hey, hey, kid, I’m right here, it’s Mr. Stark,” Tony breathed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Aunt May,” the kid was whispering under his breath. Tony felt ice rush through his veins. Aunt May was dead, but the marks she had left behind on his kid were still there.

“Peter, it’s me. It’s Mr. Stark. Come on, kid,” Tony begged, trying to approach him. Peter shrank back, falling backward, crawling away from Tony desperately.

“You’re… mad, aren’t you? Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Peter whispered. Tony felt his heart break. Looking back at his actions, he probably would have seemed mad to someone like Peter: shouting at him, telling him to _wait_ even before Peter could finish what he was saying, not being next to him when he woke up, slamming down those cuffs. 

“Kid, kid, come here,” Tony murmured, getting down to his knees. “Hey, buddy, look at me. It’s Mr. Stark, it’s me, I’d never hurt you. It’s me, buddy, it’s me.” Peter stared at him through a film of tears. Slowly, Tony reached forward and embraced him, letting Peter cry onto his shoulder.

“I can’t breath, Mr. Stark. I can’t-”

“Yes you can, Peter. Feel your chest? That’s you breathing. Take deep breaths with me, okay? In, out, in, out.”

It took Peter over half an hour to finally calm down. They were on the couch now, Peter curled up in a corner, his hands clenched white around a breakfast bar. Tony looked at him, expectantly, but Peter was just _tired._

“Mr. Stark… you weren’t mad at me?” He finally asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, no, no, I wouldn’t be mad at you. Why would I be mad at you, kid? You risked your life to save that little girl, the man told me about it,” Tony murmured. 

“But… you yelled…”

“I was panicked, Peter. I’m sorry. There was so much blood, and I couldn’t bear the thought of-”

“But the cuffs-”

“I was scared. You came in and startled me, I’m sorry, kiddo,” Tony murmured. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Peter was silent for a second.

“I… thought…”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I know it was an accident, okay? But you said stuff… and it reminded me of what Aunt May said.” Tony’s face went pale and Peter quickly shook his head. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. But I convinced myself that… Clint was more important. And that I didn’t… deserve help.” Tony was silent, and Peter glanced toward him, slightly scared.

“And why would you think that, kid?”

That was unexpected.

“Well, uh, Clint’s amazing. He’s just a normal human but he’s so good at what he does, he’s really amazing. I’m just… stupid, worthless me. I haven’t even done anything amazing yet. He’s so obviously worth so much more than me-”

“Peter. Stop,” Tony said, and his voice was strained. “ _Why on earth_ would you think you have to do anything amazing to be important?”

“Well, I mean, normal me is just me. Normal me… doesn’t deserve food or anything. Normal me’s just useless and stupid.”

“Kid, you can’t possibly think that-”

“But Aunt May-”

“Aunt May was a drunken alcoholic who hated herself and her husband so much that she could only project it onto you. A _child._ The kindest, most beautiful, caring, selfless kid I know-”

“That’s _nothing!_ I’m worthless-”

“Peter. You let a building fall on you to save a single child.”

“I-"

“A few months ago, you put yourself in between me and our captors even though _I_ was the more experienced-”

“I’m the one with super-healing!”

“When you woke up from having a _building_ collapse on you, the first thing you did was ask _us_ whether you were okay!”

“Mr. Stark, I-”

“You don’t _have_ to be anything, Peter! You can just be _Peter_!”

“I-”

“You’re enough, Peter. You’re enough.”

Peter's face _crumpled._

“Hey, kid, it’s okay,” Tony said, carefully hugging him as tightly as he could. “It’s okay, kid. It’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

For the first time in months, years, even, Peter felt… loved. 


End file.
